huh.
As most of you know, I am no longer "racing" the Transylvania Epic. However, one of the nice things about this event is that if some unforeseen catastrophe befalls you (or say, your brand-new bike) you are at least allowed to continue riding and check out the scenery. And holy crap, was this a day for it.
First, I should say that I woke up this morning to the following spectacle:
Ladies, meet Ben Cruz.
Bens dedication to sleevelessness extends well past his waking hours.
I think that this is also a good time to point out that I have more flies on and around my body than I thought physically possible. Its like the streets of Calcutta around this picnic table. I just removed a fly from INSIDE one of my blisters.
So Im not racing. In an attempt to remain (or at least feel) useful, I told Mike and Ray I would ride around with a Go-Pro camera and talk to the folks at the back/ middle of the race. Not that I have ever used a Go-Pro. I loaded up with tubes and bottles and lined up at the back of the race.
The "neutral start" (you will notice I keep putting that in quotes) rolled out of camp, climbed up a dirt road and through the woods for a bit, then deposited us on some of the most enjoyable descending in the race so far. Right after the trail went down, a rider was stopped on the side of the trail. I gave him my multitool. This will be important later.
A minute later I came upon Barry Wicks trying to fix his wheel with a rock.
Big Wicks has the best attitude ever. Hes a funny dude, and even when his GC hopes were getting pummeled out of his wheel by a fist-sized chunk of Pennsylvania shale, he still had a good sense of humor about it.
After I saw Wicks off, Rebecca Rusch came screaming down the trail in a train of very serious-looking women. There was a slightly confusing turn before the singletrack, and they went the wrong way. I followed them for a bit, trying to get some footage, but then I noticed something odd about how my bike was riding.
Remember how I said I lent out my multitool? Yeah, that guy passed me while I was hanging with Wicks. And it just so happened that my handlebar was loose. Apparently, in my haste to put together a functioning ride, I didnt torque the bolts down enough.
I also didnt want to stop in the middle of a singletrack downhill, so I babied it the rest of the way down and waited for another good samaritan. Trouble was, I was ALREADY at the back of the race. Luckily, a friendly straggler was kind enough to let me use hers.
The next victim was Ross Schnell (or "that pro guy with worse luck than me"). His pedal bound up and spun off the crankarm. It took him an hour to get himself out of that mess. After the race, I lent him Caitlins set of Crank Bros. Hopefully he can make it through one stage without incident.
I was way off the back. On the first climb, I finally started to see people. I hung out, talked a bit - it was cool. After every race, all the pros get interviewed - it was interesting to hear regular peoples reasons and motivation for coming out and doing such a difficult event.
It was a completely different perspective for me, as well. I am used to BIKE RACING... not that I am particularly good at it, its just what Ive been doing for the last few years. To look at an event like this as an actual "vacation" is something I have never even considered.
But most of the folks I talked to were doing just that. Many had come down with their whole family: there are ample facilities, stuff to do besides wait for the race to end (they give you this huge packet of local attractions) and it sure as hell beats sitting around in a hotel room. For some of these guys and girls, it was about pushing themselves - to others, it was about enjoying the scenery.
And today, the scenery was pretty amazing.
It was the "mostly road" stage, with seemingly endless climbs and fast fireroad descents. The vistas at the top of the climbs were spectacular, and the rivers and valleys at the base of the hills were cool, dark and quiet.
We went through the center of one town that looked equal parts Restoration Village and Stephen King Novel.
Being toward the back of the race, I was in a good position to pick up dropped bottles, gu wrappers and random bits of things that had fallen off peoples bikes. I didnt realize until I got my kit into the shower (or, "washing machine") just how completely disgusting my pockets were. It was like cleaning honey out of fabric.
Dried, sweaty honey.
At the first aid station, I came across a very sad looking Karen Potter. Despite her until-now awesome results, she was abandoning due to illness. That sucks. New England had been so thoroughly represented, and she had obviously worked extremely hard to have done so well.
After Adams wheel misfortune and Karens sickness, it looks like its up to Justin Lindine.
No pressure, buddy.
I grabbed some extra bottles, thinking if I came across anyone that was running low I could give them out. I didnt realize that SO MANY PEOPLE would run out of water/ hope before that second to last climb. I would start the loose, haggard road climb pretty much out of water. And I tossed my only bar (and tube) at a flat tire casualty somewhere around the fishermans trail (I think).
Soon I came up on Winner Winner Chicken Dinner, we rode to the last aid station and stuffed ourselves with coke, cookies, sandwiches and so on.
This is where we were told "Its all downhill from here".
8 more miles and a bunch of climbing later I caught James Spurk. We rode all the way to the end... well, almost.
Before we hit the last descent I yelled "FOLLOW ME!!" at Spurk. As far as I knew, he did. So I guess its my fault that he wrapped himself around a tree. Sorry, dude.
All in all, not a bad day.
Race notes:
- Adam Snyder has "legburns".
- He is also the leader of the "Excuse Post" category.
- An Amish woman on a horse asked if one of the checkpoints was selling lemonade.
- Sue Haywood makes a mean salsa
- Rays mom made cookies. For everyone.
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